


Sometimes Your Best Isn't Good Enough

by Evil_Little_Dog



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Angst, Community: comment_fic, F/M, Lost Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:24:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3798361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Angel does his best to forget. But he can’t. <br/>Disclaimer: Joss still won’t let me have a piece of this pie. <br/>NOTE: Please do not reprint/repost without my direct permission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes Your Best Isn't Good Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Leni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/gifts).



“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Doyle asked as Angel walked into the office of the Hyperion. He had something in his hand, something Angel recognized. 

“Where did you find those?” he asked, striding across the small space. He tried to take the drawings from Doyle’s hand, but he snatched them back. 

“Never you mind, boyo,” Doyle said, taking a step back. His eyes widened for a second, and Angel wondered just what sort of expression he wore. 

He tried to calm himself, but a stream of rage flowed through him. Angel unfisted his hands, remembering the martial arts training he’d put himself through. That he’d trained Buffy in, in an attempt to show her restraint. Something he needed for himself right now. Doyle gulped, but realization Angel had himself under control allowed him to regain that step back he’d taken. “What I want to know is why? You left the girl behind for a reason. You ought to put her behind you!” He tossed the sketches of Buffy down on the desk, the heavy paper fanning out over the surface.

Angel didn’t have to look down at the sketches to know what Doyle had seen: Buffy, in a variety of poses, Buffy over the years they’d known each other, Buffy, as she’d looked on the day that wasn’t. The breath he took inflated his lungs unnecessarily so he could let it out again in a sigh. “Doyle, I’m going to pick up my drawings, and you’re going to leave my office, and we’ll both ignore that you went through my things without my permission. And,” he raised a finger toward Doyle, not looking his way, “I’d appreciate it if you don’t look through my drawings again.” 

Doyle shuffled his feet audible. “Angel, I know what it’s like to love someone you can’t have. I’m…sorry, man.” He closed the door behind him. 

The drawing on top showed Buffy in a three-quarter profile. Her eyes tilted toward the viewer, a smile starting to build on her face. Angel picked up the paper, holding it in front of him for a few seconds before he dropped it down on the stack, sweeping them all together. He straightened them out by dropping the edges on top of the desk, tapping them all even. The zippered art case lay open from Doyle’s snooping and Angel slid the drawings back inside of it, zipping it closed again. He set the case back where he’d kept it, under the desk, out of the way of curious eyes. 

He remembered a day no one else did. He remembered the Slayer, just at the cusp of her taking on that mantle. Angel had tried his best to block those memories, to forget, but in the end, someone had to remember for Buffy’s sake, if for no other reason. 

“So I’ll remember, Buffy. As long as I’m still walking around, I’ll remember you.” 

There was no way he’d ever forget her.


End file.
